then if she were naked.
Thorne laughed, a rusty sound that filled the small room and sounded alien to his own ears. He didn’t remember when he’d ever laughed before meeting Isis. It was a strange and uncomfortable realization having no recollection of being… happy. Christ.
THE DEEP RHYTHMIC WHOP-WHOP-WHOP was so faint that at first, Thorne attributed it to their syncopated heartbeats. She’d rolled off him ten minutes before. He’d helped her pull up her clothing, and she’d helped him with his. Which had involved a lot more touching and kissing, but eventually they’d both fallen silent, and she was in a postcoital doze, if her steady breathing was any indication.
Whop-whop-whop.
Disengaging her arm from across his chest, Thorne jerked upright, senses tuned to the sound. “Incoming.”
He jumped to his feet, his hand going automatically to his hip where his weapon should be. He pulled up his jeans and yanked up the zipper even as he strode to the clothing-stuffed entrance.
Bloody hell. He should’ve known their kidnappers wouldn’t leave well enough alone.
“Who’s coming?” Isis sounded sleepy and bewildered. Sitting up, she tugged her T-shirts down over her pretty breasts. “The bad guys?”
“Douse the fire.”
Thorne fingered aside a sliver so he could see out and searched the black skies. The narrow entrance was easily defensible, but they were trapped like rats in a hole. He pulled out the clothing he had stuffed in the opening. It was still dark out, the stars fading; dawn had yet to break. The air was cooler, and now dead calm. Not a breath of wind moved the sand particles.
“Chopper from the north.” Coming in low and dark, a black blot in the star-studded sky. Narrow-eyed, Thorne watched it swoop low over the rise and disappear. Presumably to fly over their campsite.
Heat-imaging sensors would alert whoever was on board that the tent and surrounding area were abandoned. Did they know about this tomb? Yeah, he bet they did. Everything else had been so well scripted they wouldn’t forget the smallest detail.
The whop-whop-whop grew louder before the black ghost of the chopper rose high enough to clear the ridge.
He knew what he would do if he were them. “Go back as far as you can. Move!” Racing back to where Isis stood motionless in the middle of the chamber, he grabbed her around the waist, shoving her ahead of him as he ran back into the chamber.
She gave a muffled shriek as he flattened his body over hers, tugging the scarf that was still wound around her neck, up over her head. He covered her face, then pressed her head against his chest. He used the trailing end of her scarf to cover his own nose and mouth.
A nanosecond later, the sandstone bricks in the entrance exploded in a shower of dust, sand, and sharp shards.
“Who are these crazy freaking people?” Isis yelled, her voice muffled against his chest.
“It’ll stop in a minute…”
“How do you—”
The grating sound of the rocks and sandstone bricks tumbling and crashing obliterated her words.
Thorne pressed Isis’s face harder against his chest, holding his breath as the small room filled with thick clouds of dust and sand. Rocks and bricks tumbled and bounced. Something hard slammed painfully into his shoulder. The cacophony of falling stones continued for interminable minutes as the surrounding hillside crashed down outside and sealed them in the chamber.
FIFTEEN
Shell-shocked, Isis took in the devastation as she wiggled out of Thorne’s steely grip. Yanking the flashlight out of his pocket, he flicked it on, shining a thin beam of illumination around the dust-filled chamber. Half the room was filled with rubble. The opening was sealed behind who knew how much fallen stone, broken bricks, and debris. She coughed as the thick, swirling dust lodged in her throat.
Eyes stinging, Isis felt the unsteady gallop of her heart and wiped perspiration from her upper lip with a dirty fingertip. “What in God’s name was that about?” She was annoyed at how her fingers shook as she fastened her jeans.
Thorne shone the light on the pile of rubble blocking their exit. “They wanted to ensure their plan worked. Are you hurt?”
“Thanks to fast thinking, and you being a human shield, I’m okay. The question is, are you?” She ran her hands over his chest, then walked around behind him. “Hold the light over your shoul—”
He moved out of the way, taking the light with him. “I’m fine.”
Isis didn’t blame him for being cranky. She was feeling decidedly pissed off herself. “Me, too. Getting madder by the